The Escape (5 page)

Della swished back into the room, holding a tray with three cups of coffee and a plate tottering with slices of bread. She set it on the table next to the flowers and handed both of them a cup and held out the plate. Betty was surprised to realize she was famished. She took a slice of bread and started nibbling.

“All right,” Della said, sitting on the bench and looking at Betty. “I’ve been dying to meet you. Ned told me not to bother you too soon, but I been itchin’ to visit.”

Betty tilted her head.

“Whole town knows you’re here. And I about died when I heard you was Lou’s sister. Goodness, but that’s excitin’!” She went on. “Ned was supposed to hitch you to Cole Bronson. Been wonderin’ what happened.”

Betty felt her face go red.

Lou pointed to Betty’s stomach. “There’s what happened. Cole wasn’t aware my sister was in the family way.”

Della bit her lower lip and nodded slowly. Then she said, “Now I get it.” She set her cup of coffee back on the tray. “What’s wrong with men, anyway?”

Betty shrugged. “Yes. What’s wrong with men?”

“He’s scared,” said Lou. “Pure and simple. After his wife and all. Couldn’t face the possibility of another death so soon.”

Della agreed. “Maybe so. But Betty came all this way.”

“In good faith,” Lou added.

“I reckon we understand Betty’s situation better than most, don’t we, Lou?” Della got a faraway look in her eyes, then she began to laugh. “Cole will come around, Betty, you’ll see.”

“What do you mean, you can understand better than most?” Betty asked, her curiosity aroused.

“Ned never wanted me. And in the beginnin’, Jude never wanted Lou.”

Betty’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“I was a saloon girl,” Della explained, patting her fiery errant curls back into her bun. “Don’t take a genius to figure out no preacher would want a saloon girl.”

Della sat back and smiled. “And Lou here was a replacement for the gal Jude expected.” She winked at Lou. “But they came around, didn’t they? Both of ’em. We was just too irresistible.”

Lou grinned. “Yes, they came around.”

“And so will Cole.”

“I don’t care if he does,” Betty said, surprised her mouth didn’t burst into flames from such a bold-faced lie. She did care. She cared more than was reasonable.

And little Eve? Her heart warmed at the very thought of her.

“Cole gave Betty a present,” Lou said, interrupting Betty’s thoughts.

Della’s lips parted. “Why, how wonderful! What is it?”

“A hairbrush.”

Della frowned. “A hairbrush?”

“A beautiful, flower-handled hairbrush. Show her, Betty.”

“I left it in the buggy,” Betty admitted, feeling a bit churlish.

Della jumped up. “Can I see it now?”

The three of them went out to the wagon, and Betty again unwrapped the brush. As she showed Della, an odd feeling of pride ran through her. But why should she feel pride over a gift that came from a man who only served to make her confused and upset?

Why indeed? But nevertheless, her affection for the brush and the giver grew, and when she rewrapped the gift again, she did so with a gentle, loving touch.

Four

Betty was quiet on the trip back to Lou’s farm. Her mind kept dwelling on the satisfied look in Cole’s eyes when he’d handed her the present. He’d seemed so pleased, which of course made little sense. Why would he want to give her a present anyway? And why would he be surprised when she didn’t accept it with open arms?

As if she would! After the way things had gone with him.

But how had they gone, really? She could hardly blame him for being gun-shy in taking on a pregnant wife.

He’d lost someone, just like she had. How willing would she be if the situation were reversed? She shivered, forcing her mind to stop. She was too tired to think about any of it. All she wanted now was to rest.

But she did wish she’d had a chance to see Eve. The image of her solemn little face captured Betty’s heart and imagination. She’d love to make the girl smile and laugh. She wondered whether Eve liked to play games or splash in a stream or feed the chickens.

As the wagon continued jolting over the roads, Betty’s eyes closed and she dreamed of herself running through an open field with Eve, both of them giggling right out loud. She saw herself bending down and plucking a wildflower to tuck behind Eve’s ear. She saw Eve look up at her with love and trust.

She awoke to Lou shaking her. “Betty, we’re home.”

Betty blinked. “Oh my. I must have dozed off.”

“That’s saying something on this bumpy drive.” Lou studied her. “Are you okay? Did we overdo it?”

Betty shook her head. “I’m fine. A bit tired. But let’s go get some food on the table. I expect Jude will be starving by now.”

“I’ll get food on the table. You go on in and lie down for a while.”

Betty tried to argue with her, but Lou wouldn’t hear of it. “It’s my niece or nephew you’re carrying, and I mean to take care of them. Now get in there and lie down.”

“But, Lou, you might be with child, too.”

“Until we know for sure, you’re the only one getting special treatment. Now
git
!”

Betty did as she was told, grateful for her sister’s care. She lay on her firm bed and stared out the side window. A smattering of fluffy clouds dotted the sky, and she saw a bird swoosh by with a long piece of grass hanging from its beak. In the distance, a young red maple tree swayed in the breeze.

The very atmosphere was harmonious and serene, and Betty found herself settling into the covers with an unexpected feeling of contentment. She was safe there. And her baby would come into the world surrounded by love.

Her thoughts flitted to Boston and her sisters and her grandfather. When she’d first learned of her pregnancy, she’d thought they would all be deeply involved in the raising of her child. How things had changed. Unless Grandfather softened, her two younger sisters might not even know her baby.

Edmund wouldn’t know his son or daughter. Her heart jolted and she shifted to her back.
Edmund. Edmund. You were so happy about this child. This heir. Now, you will never know her or him.

Suddenly, the leering image of Garrett’s face hovered in her mind. She clasped her hands to her chest and took a deep breath. She’d been right to flee. His greedy hands would never again touch her, nor would they ever touch her baby. Never.

She tossed again on the bed, curling onto her side.

Cole’s haunted face replaced Garrett’s, and Betty’s pulse quickened. She opened her eyes and gazed at the bedside table where she’d set the crinkled brown package. She reached over and picked it up, letting the paper fall away. She pressed the brush to her bosom and dropped her chin until it grazed the soft bristles.

She loved the brush. Tears filled her eyes as she realized that she was beginning to care for the man who gave it to her.

She held onto the brush tightly, as if it would somehow save her from the rushing tide of emotion threatening to pull her under.

****

“Betty, are you awake?” Lou stood at the door, speaking quietly.

Betty stirred. “Yes. What time is it?”

“You slept through lunch, and now I’ve got supper on the table.”

Betty bolted upright. “I’ve been asleep all day?” She looked out the window and saw the sun sinking in the sky.

“You must have needed it. But I want you to eat. Are you feeling all right?”

Betty stood and patted her long curls back into place. “I feel quite refreshed, actually.”

Lou began to giggle.

“What’s so funny?”

Her sister reached over and touched her chin. “You’ve got an imprint of the hairbrush in your chin. You must have slept on it.”

Betty looked down at the bed and saw the brush half-shoved under her pillow. “I guess I did.”

Lou grabbed both of her hands. “You like him, don’t you?”

Betty dropped her gaze. “Maybe. A little.”

“He sure has a beautiful daughter.”

“That he does.”

“Who needs a mother.”

Betty nodded. “Yes, she does.”

Lou pulled her toward the door. “It will be exciting to see what God will do.”

Betty pressed her lips together. Yes, it would. She sent up a quick prayer asking for God’s care and direction.

****

Later that week, Betty sat on the porch in the rocker Lou had pulled outside for her. Her head was bent over the tiny cutting of cloth in her hands. With tender care, she stitched the side seam of the small gown. Beside her were the cuttings for three more gowns. If she worked diligently, she should have the basics of a baby wardrobe completed by the following week.

She smiled and paused to admire the little garment. She could hardly believe that in a few months, she’d be holding a child small enough to fit into such clothes. Just then, the baby stirred within her, kicking against her side.

Betty laughed. “You like the garment, don’t you, little one?”

Approaching horse hooves interrupted her, and she glanced up to see someone approaching in a cloud of dust. Her heart lurched as she recognized Cole. Leaning back against his tummy and hanging onto the saddle’s horn was Eve, her hair flopping and blowing across her face.

Betty stood and dropped her sewing onto the rocker.

Cole drew the horse to a halt at the porch’s edge. He lifted Eve down and then slid off the horse to join her.

“Eve! How lovely to see you,” Betty greeted her, moving close.

Eve gave her a shy grin.

Cole took the girl’s hand and faced Betty. “Morning, Betty,” he said. His gaze on her was intent, and Betty suddenly felt uneasy.

Why was he here?

“May I get you some coffee?” she asked, thankful for the steadiness of her voice.

“Sounds nice,” he said. He looked around the porch, his eyes coming to rest on the unfinished baby gown lying on the rocker.

His eyebrows rose, and he stared at her.

Betty’s step faltered, and then she drew herself up and faced him. “Yes, I’m making baby clothes,” she stated. “I
am
going to have a baby, as you so clearly know.”

Irritation surged through her. She had no call to explain herself to this man, and the fact that she was doing so disturbed her even further.

Cole didn’t respond. Instead, he squatted before Eve. “Why don’t you go on in and see Lou, honey?” He glanced up at Betty. “Is Lou inside?”

“She’s inside.”

“Run along, Eve.”

Eve’s gaze darted from her father to Betty and then back again. She hesitated.

“Everything’s fine, honey. Go on in.” Cole gave her a wide smile and a gentle push.

Eve ran inside, and the door slammed behind her.

Betty stood, unmoving, watching him.

Cole sauntered to the porch rail and leaned against it, his tall silhouette relaxed and almost appearing lazy. Betty glared at him, baffled. What
was
he doing there?

“What do you want?” she asked him.

He laughed and removed his hat. “Don’t rightly know.”

Her forehead creased.

“All I know is I keep findin’ myself wonderin’ how you’re farin’.”

She raised her chin. “I’m
farin’
just fine, thank you very much.”

He stepped toward her, his scuffed cowboy boots creaking across the porch boards. “You’re sassy,” he drawled, clasping his hat against his thigh.

“No, I’m not!” she countered, thoroughly irritated now.

“But you are. Right sassy.” He laughed again, but she heard an edge of nervousness in his tone.

“I offered you coffee,” she said with a slight stammer.

“You did.”

“I should go get it.” But her legs wouldn’t move. And she couldn’t seem to break her gaze from his penetrating eyes either. She felt invaded—as if he could see inside her soul.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Yes, you should go get it,” he said, his voice a whisper.

Betty swallowed. The mixture of confusion and hope in his penetrating look took her breath, and she worked to resist the urge to take him in her arms. Right then, everything within her yearned to comfort him and hold him and bring happiness to his face.

And then he stepped back, and the moment was gone.

Betty swiveled and hurried into the house for coffee, her legs shaking and her breath coming quickly now. What was she doing? What
was
it she felt for him? Compassion? Pity?

But Cole Bronson wasn’t a man to be pitied.

When she burst through the door, Lou looked up from the table where she was sitting with Eve—her eyes full of questions.

“Don’t ask me now,” Betty said, rushing to snatch two tin mugs and a hot pad to grab the pot Lou kept simmering on the stove. She poured the cups of hot coffee.

Still shaken, she carried the mugs back out to the porch. Cole hadn’t moved. He reached out and took one, folding his large hands around the cup as if savoring its warmth.

His eyes were on hers, and she paused.

“What is it?” she finally asked.

He flinched and cleared his throat. “Maybe you’d like to come by and see my place,” he said and then frowned. “Someday, maybe.”

Her eyes were wide and without thought, she leaned toward him. “Someday,” she whispered. “Yes, I’d like that.”

The front door was thrust open. “Pa, I had a cookie.” Eve skipped toward her father. “It was yummy.”

Cole gazed down at his daughter, who now tugged on his pants leg. “Did you, now?” he asked. He glanced up at Betty and something inexplicable passed over his face.

Betty stared, trying to read his expression, but just as quickly, his head was down, all attention back on Eve.

“You ready to go home?” he asked her.

Eve nodded and Cole stepped toward Betty and offered her his still full mug. When she reached out to take it, her fingers brushed against his and a jolt passed through her. She wavered, sucked in a deep breath, and took the mug. She avoided Cole’s eyes and instead looked at Eve.

“Thank you for coming over, Eve. It was lovely to see you.” She gazed at the charming little girl, ignoring the confusion broiling through her heart.

Eve turned her head and gave Betty a smile. Her tousled hair had pulled loose from its ponytail, and a smudge of sugar edged the side of her mouth. She let go of Cole’s leg and stood before Betty, regarding her with wide eyes.

“Ya gonna be my new mama or not?” she asked, her voice high and sweet.

Betty swallowed and gave Cole a frantic look. What was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to disappoint this girl who obviously wanted a new mama?

Cole coughed and put his hand on Eve’s shoulder. “Honey, you and me talked about that. Now you gotta not bother Miss Betty.” He steered Eve to the edge of the porch. “We’ll be goin’ then.”

Betty nodded.

Cole swung Eve up on the horse and then put his foot into the stirrup and climbed up behind her. Eve snuggled into him, and it was obvious they rode that way often. Cole took the reins and clicked his tongue. The horse whinnied, and they were off. Betty stood motionless and watched them disappear down the road.

Lou’s skirts rustled by the door. “Well, now, I guess Cole Bronson can’t stay away, can he?”

Betty grabbed up her sewing and sank to the rocker. “I can’t figure him out.”

Lou stepped outside and picked up the two mugs from the porch rail. Lou turned to her sister. “Do you want to figure him out?”

“What do you mean?’

“Do you like him?”

Betty fingered the small baby gown. She found the needle hanging by its thread and took another stich.

“Betty?”

Betty took two more stitches. “Does it matter?”

“Of course, it matters!” Lou cried. “I haven’t seen Cole Bronson this much in all the months I’ve been here. The man is obviously smitten.”

Hope roared through Betty’s heart, and a tremor started deep in her stomach. “Do you truly think so? Do you? But the man drives me mad! One minute, I think he wants to embrace me, and the next, he’s like a cold iron stake!”